Within Tragedy
by WithinTheTrenches
Summary: The story of two little boys and their families the day the World Trade Center fell...As a child in the Towers, how would you ensure your escape? As a worried parent on the outside, what else could you do besides wait for the news?


***Hello :) and welcome all. This story is a very AU short tale of two little boys and their families the day the World Trade Center fell. I hope you enjoy this and happy reading. See you at the bottom.**

**Disclaimer: This goes without saying. The characters of the Lightwood family and Magnus Bane all belong to Cassandra Clare. But the rest of the characters are mine. Don't do any harm to them please?**

***Approximate word count: 7, 830**

* * *

><p><em>.|Within Tragedy|. <em>

_September 11, 2001, Manhattan, New York City_

Alec Lightwood sat in his room, trying to read a book, but couldn't be bothered. His sister, Isabelle, was in the adjacent room laughing with a friend who slept over the night before. That took all of the boy's concentration as he strained his ears to listen every time he heard a high pitched squeal. Not that it worked, but it was worth trying.

Suddenly, there was a low knock on Alec's closed door and a woman, who mirrored the boy in appearance, slowly pushed the door open and gave her son a smile. She closed the door behind her and sat on the bed that Alec was sitting on. Alec dropped his book to the floor.

Maryse patted Alec's knee. "Hello, sweetheart."

"Hi, Mommy," Alec sighed.

"Are you all right, dear?" the woman asked, concerned.

"Yeah," the nine year old sighed again.

"Tell me what's bothering you," the woman told.

"Just bored. I feel like Izzy's mocking me with all the laughing." Alec tried to drop his blue eyes. "…I have no friends."

Maryse's eyes softened at her eldest child's admittance. "Oh, Alexander…You do have friends, honey. What about that one boy, Tanner?"

Alec thought about Tanner for a moment. How he did not like that boy, not since he pushed Alec from the top of the fireman's pole on the playground and he almost broke something, had Alec not grabbed the pole in time to break his fall. "I guess so," he lied. Alec couldn't help it, not really. His mother wanted him to be happy. Him not having even a single friend didn't make him happy. The boy should not have told his mother the truth.

"I have an idea," Maryse grinned wildly, which caused the small boy to forget his lonely unhappiness.

"What?" Alec asked, excited.

"How do you want to go to the office with me? I have got to pick up a few files. It shouldn't take long."

Then Alec frowned. He loved having his mother to himself, but how could he when baby Max was barely six months and Isabelle had enough of an attitude and a temper for his parents to temporarily forget that they had a son, another son who was older and felt neglected since the first time Isabelle threw her first tantrum?

"If this isn't because you aren't feeling well today, Alexander, I understand," Maryse stated, catching her son's sudden somber expression.

True, he was not feeling that well. That was why his mother let him stay home from school for the day. While his sister still had to go to school. The though only made Alec grin. "What about Max?"

"Your father will be taking care of him, don't you worry, Allie. It will be just you and me." Maryse ruffled her son's already unruly dark hair, the color of her own.

"I'd love to go," the boy proclaimed happily.

* * *

><p>Bundled up tightly in a lightweight jacket, Alec followed his mother out of the family town car.<p>

Maryse straightened out her black pencil skirt and dress shirt, then dropped her hand for her son to grab, which he merrily did so.

Out of amusement, the little boy started to swing his and his mother's arms as they approached one of the towers. "I can't believe you work here, Mommy," Alec said in awe.

Maryse smiled down at her child. "I don't work here per sé. My business is located here, sure. And I come here to retrieve and deliver my files that cannot be e-mailed. But I work mainly at home," she tried to explain.

"If I could be in this place all the time, I would be."

Maryse pressed the buttons in the elevator, signaling the mechanical box that her destination was considerably higher up. "I know, dear, but I work from home so I can be closer to you."

The little boy grinned, but the smile fell from his face when the elevator stopped prematurely to let in another two passengers.

A woman, around the age of Maryse, with midnight hair and golden eyes, dressed in the same fashion as Maryse as well, entered. Her son, same jet black hair which shaggily lay over his green eyes, followed.

Alec suddenly felt childish as this other boy, around his age, entered and did not even make a move to hold his mother's hand. Suddenly Alec dropped Maryse's, who masked her disappointment well.

"Maryse," the woman said with a smile. "I haven't seen you in awhile. How's the baby?"

"Oh, Max…He's well. Still waking Robert and me up at un-Godly hours. This must be your son."

The woman named Lira peered down at her son whom was by her side. "I bring him here often; I forgot he did not meet you," Lira laughed. "This is my baby, Magnus."

"Moooom," Magnus rolled his eyes at the endearment.

Lira ignored her son. "Magnus, this is Mrs. Lightwood."

"Please, you may call me Maryse."

In order for Magnus to shake the hand Maryse offered, Lira had to nudge him and give him one of those mother you-better-do-what-I-think-is-right glares. Hesitant at first, Magnus took the Lightwood woman's hand and shook. "Magnus."

Lira hefted up her skirt slightly, which was hard since it was form-fitting to her legs, and squatted. "And who might you be?" It was a question she didn't need an answer to; the proof evident in Alec's eyes, hair, and face shape.

Alec was not sure of this woman. After all, he was the shy one of the family. But she looked so kind, friendlier than his mother, which, to him, was sort of hard to achieve. "A-Alec."

"Well hello there, big boy. I'm Lira Bane, and I work with your mother," she introduced formally.

"I thought you said you didn't work here, Mommy." Alec stated as he looked into his mother's eyes.

Both of the women laughed and Alec suddenly felt stupid. He hated being laughed at. That was why he wasn't very outgoing in the first place. The boy suddenly wished he was in bed and not in this stupid, overly large and tall building. Maybe his father would amuse him like he did when Alec was sick. Alec loved being sick for that reason: His father would read to him, watch movies with him, tell him jokes, tickle him, share secrets with him…everything. Alec sneered and crossed his little arms in front of his chest.

Thankfully, when the elevator _ding_ed a second time, it was on the floor the two women desired.

"Okay, Alec. I will be right over there," Maryse said, pointing to a glass office, "if you need me. Don't hesitate to knock for me. Stay here, will you?" The woman got down eye level with Alec.

"Yes, Mommy."

Maryse smiled and kissed the top of his forehead lightly. "Be good."

The little boy with the blue eyes sighed and plopped down in a black chair that spun, and started to do just that…spin.

"What are you doing?" Magnus asked.

Alec suddenly stopped, but the room didn't until a few moments later. He was really about to say either, "What does it look like?" or "Spinning…Duh." But he was far too polite for that. His parents did well with him, but not his younger sister, who would not hesitate to spit her words as she thought them. Instead, he chose, "Getting dizzy."

"Why?"

"I don't know. There isn't anything better to do." When he agreed to accompany his mother to work, this he did not expect, to be left alone to his own devices, and not even a single thing to play with. And staplers were not all that fun.

"Can I join you?" Magnus asked, tilting his head slightly.

Alec looked down at his lap, then back into Magnus' eyes. "Uhm…There's only room for one on this chair." But he added quickly, "You can have it if you want." And he moved to get up.

"No," Magnus rushed. "You were there first."

Alec studied the little boy in front of him. He looked young, but older than himself. And friendly, just like his mother. Alec found himself wanting to trust someone for the first time in a while. And, he figured, Magnus wouldn't be mean enough to almost kill him near the fireman's pole like that dumb Tanner did. "We could find something else for us to do…together," little Alec Lightwood suggested.

Magnus' face brightened instantly. "That's great."

* * *

><p>The two boys ran around the office for twenty minutes playing tag mixed with hide-and-seek before settling down, nestled up on the floor with pens—a few colored no less, from Mister Clark. He was really nice to the giggling boys—and a few dozen sheets of paper, and started to draw.<p>

"How old are you?" Magnus asked while grabbing a green pen from their stockpile.

"Daddy says you aren't old, just young, gaining age with wisdom," Alec stated as he colored with black ink. "But I'm nine, to answer your question. How old are you?"

"I thought I wasn't old," Magnus teased, switching to a purple pen next.

"Fine," Alec huffed. "How _young_ are you?"

"Ten and a half," Magnus proclaimed proudly. "What is your dad's name and what's he like?"

"Um…" Alec thought for a moment. "Robert. He's pretty cool, funny. Oh, and he knows how to cheer me up. I would have spent the day with him, but he's taking care of my brother today. And he's really annoying. And smelly." He crinkled his nose at a memory.

"How old is he?"

"I don't know. Young enough not to keep track, since he isn't even a year yet."

"That must be fun," Magnus commented. "I have no other siblings. Just me. But I've sorta always wanted a sister. They seem like fun."

Alec suddenly scoffed. "No you don't," he said instantly. "Little sisters are evil."

Magnus stared at Alec. "You have one of those too? That is _so_ not fair."

"You want her? Take her. But I must warn you, I need to borrow her occasionally. Mommy would be heartbroken. Annnd," he added reluctantly, "Izzy's okay…sometimes."

"Could I really? I'd love to borrow her. But if I don't like her, I'm giving her back."

Alec thought about it for a moment. "I guess that would work." Then Alec said, "Tell me about your dad."

"Oh, he's…fine. Dante, if you're wondering. He works a lot. But he's fun when he has days off. We go to a dog park sometimes, even though we don't have a dog."

Confused, the Lightwood asked, "Then why go?"

"Dad tells me I can't have a dog even though I want one. So he thinks me mooching on someone else's dog is a substitute. 'Free, no mess, and zero responsibility' he always says."

Alec laughed slightly. "Well he has good logic."

"Whose side are you on?" Magnus asked, just a little angry.

"Nobody's."

The boy with the blue eyes widened his orbs when the other boy practically yelled at him, and instantly Magnus wished to take it back. "It's fine though. I'm more of a cat person."

Alec looked away, down at his black and blue scribbles. "I have a cat. He doesn't like me. Stupid Church. He trips me constantly."

Magnus was about to say, "You have one of those too? That is so not fair." But he did not have the chance. The ten year old was cut off by a sudden amount of screaming.

"What's going on?" Alec tried to yell over the screeching.

Maryse and Lira, and, well, many more people, started pouring out of the office. Many were be-lining to the elevators and stairs. But not the women. They were trying to find their sons.

The two were yelling, calling, screaming, their sons' names, and they could faintly hear a few "_Mommy!"s _but they couldn't actually see Magnus or Alec.

Then the building shook, starting to topple and catch fire.

Magnus was the one who used logic at this moment. Grabbing Alec's hand, he commanded, "We've gotta leave. We need to get out of here."

Alec tried to take back his hand, but Magnus' grip was far too tight. How could this boy be his friend now? No, Alec wanted nothing to do with the older boy at that moment. "No! I need to find Mommy!" With all the strength the nine year old could muster, he started to pull Magnus around the crowd of people, who did not even help the children. They themselves were far too panicked to even realize there were children on this floor.

Magnus saw flames start to engulf the ceiling. "Alec! We need to go! If not, we'll die."

That was the hardest thing he ever had to do, ever had to think about. Alec saw the fire. He noticed the crumbling floor. If he did not move, he would die. But if he did not save his mother, she, too, would die. How could he choose to save himself over his mother? With a cry and a scream one last time of _Mommy!_ Alec knew what he had to do. He followed Magnus to the set of stairs that already started to betray the weight of people.

The floor was about to give way, but Alec and Magnus tried desperately to tread further down. Another few dozen rumbles came and multiple people pushing their way through the two, trying to ensure their own safety.

Out of nowhere, a beam fell in front of the running boys and blocked their path.

"How do we get out now?" Alec yelled, terrified, and also hoping that brave Magnus, the one that told him he had to leave his very own mother behind, had the right answers.

"I have no idea!" Magnus cried, both with his tone and hot tears that spewed from his eyes. The boy tried aimlessly to beat down the beam, tried to scale it even, once he realized that, if only he was tall enough, he could move _over_ the obstacle and be on his not-so-merry path down to safety.

"Boys!"

It was Mister Clark, the one that gave them the pretty colored pens. "I'm so glad I found you."

"Where's my mom?" Magnus asked.

"I don't know." But he tried to make up for his lack of knowledge by hefting the two up and placing them over the obstruction in their way. "Try to make it down! Try to be safe!" the man called. "Run!"

Alec tried desperately not to think about how his mother was probably still back there, maybe still searching for him, waiting for him. It took all that he had not to run back and demand he go back up and look for him mom. But he did no such thing. He grabbed hold of Magnus' shaking hand and tried to act brave, commanding they move forward.

Their journey was blessed with more disaster, more obstacles they had to climb. The two boys had to run even faster in certain locations, simply because the fire was spreading. It was not a good day to be sick, Alec also thought as his lungs filled with smoke and he struggled to breathe, heaving heavier with each massing moment.

"Am I going to have to drag you?" Magnus tried to joke, but this was no time for it. And he would have gladly done so in order to save Alec.

Alec, climbing over a log of something charred and completely unrecognizable, yelled, "Hopefully not."

Magnus also started to slow in pace, not having the stamina or the lungs for the running. He pushed and pushed until there was nothing left to give. He stopped for an instant, checking over his shoulder to see a slow Alec making his way over.

"Why'd you stop?"

"I…can't….do this…much lo…nger."

Alec, who was also very tired, stated, "We need to do this, Magnus. We need to live."

"But…we can't." Magnus pointed to the wall that was in front of them, placed there from a series of booms and shakes. This time, there was no possibility of scaling the walls or climbing atop of something was completely dangerous but it would have to suffice as a ladder. They did not even see Mister Clark since he told them to run.

The word _can't_ was not good enough for Alec. He wanted—no _needed_ to get to the bottom. He needed to make sure that was what his mother did. He prayed for her, not for himself. Viciously, the Lightwood child pounded on the thick drywall, only succeeding in tearing his knuckles.

It seemed like hours that Alec tried to get the best of the wall that would not weaken. Magnus joined in, but gave up before Alec. With more tears cleaning paths in his face in the soot that accumulated there, Alec finally gave up, sliding against the rough surface.

The two sat in silence until Alec started to murmur to himself.

"What?" Magnus asked, wanting to hear, but couldn't.

"None of this would be happening if I went to school."

"You honestly believe that this, whatever this is, is _your_ fault?" Magnus asked incredulously.

"No…" Alec sighed, starting to cough again. "To me. None of this would have happened to me. But that sounds selfish. My mom could have still been here, and so would have you and your mom."

"I know how you feel," Magnus huffed, trying to find his breath in the harsh environment. "I wasn't going to be here either. But I convinced my mom that I had a headache, and I even fake-puked. She didn't want to leave me home alone." That was when the boy with the black hair started to cry. "And now I may die here, and I may never see her again."

Alec scooted over, trying to hug Magnus, which shocked them both, this random act of kindness and affection. "We'll be okay. They'll be okay. They have to be." Alec leaned into the crying boy, trying to comfort Magnus, or even himself, he was not sure. His proclamation did not make him feel any better.

Not before long, Alec continued his coughing chorus, followed in by Magnus.

"Ma…gnus. If we don't…figure this out…"

"I know." Magnus already knew. He knew what Alec was about to say. _Then we'll die_. But Magnus did not know what more he could do. He realized that he was older than the boy whom was leaning on his shoulder, but that did not mean that he had all of the answers. He could not break down the wall. He could not scream for help any longer. Obviously, nobody could hear the boys.

"I-I can't accept that," Alec hissed. Pushing himself up, bracing his blackened hands on his ripped knees, Alec stood.

"What are you doing? We already tried to beat down the wall."

But Alec paid him little attention as he studied the object blocking his path, knocking on it, listening. He was not sure where he learned this trick, trying to find a weak spot. If he had to guess, it was his father. However, he pushed that thought away, the thought that hurt his heart.

After a few dozen more knocks and concentrating over sirens and screams, Alec somehow found the abnormal noise he was hoping for. "Here," Alec pointed. Now, he scanned the ground for something with a serrated—or even somewhat sharp, even dull would work, it just had to have a point. He found a loose metal pole.

Magnus watched the boy with the hair lighter than his own, confusion clouded his eyes. Yet his question got tangled in his vocal chords. He watched quietly as Alec picked up the metal rod and tried to jam it into the wall, in the spot he indicated a few minutes prior.

Of course, the rod did not go through the first time around. It actually ricocheted off the wall and sent the Lightwood boy flying back, landing squarely on his arse.

"Alec!" Magnus shrieked, not caring that his throat was already dry and scratchy beyond belief.

Alec got back up, what was left of the tilted floor met the soles of his feet. "I-I'm fine," he stuttered. Once again, he tried to shove the metal through the wall. There were many failed attempts, but it finally protruded through, and, when it did that, Alec cheered loudly, whooping and almost dancing around. "Hey, Magnus. Help me."

Magnus made it to his feet and grabbed the pole. Alec and he moved it around, hoping to break the wall. Eventually, they made a sizeable hole, but not big enough to escape through. They moved to using their hands, which did not work nearly as well, but the pole did all it could.

Unfortunately, the sizeable hole they had created also let in more smoke that filled each boy's lungs, effectively creating coughing noises fill the small area.

Alec's head quickly became fuzzy, his oceanic eyes rolling to the back of his head as he weakly tried to tear apart the hole, which only ripped apart his hands, creating a bloody mess. "M…ag…nus," he tried to speak.

But the Bane boy could not answer. For he already succumbed to smoke inhalation and passed out.

Alec soon followed, his bloody hand sticking out of the wall.

* * *

><p>Firefighters rushed through the building, running, jumping over obstacles, yelling if anybody was in there, if anybody could hear them.<p>

Many answered with cries and _Please! Help me!_

It was the firefighters' job to help every last person that was in trouble. These men fought the fire and saved innocent lives until they could no longer move. However, that detail did not hinder them from working. They trekked through the rubble of the Towers that once stood erect and proud, saving many people.

Everything moved in slow motion as dead bodies, barely breathing people, and alive and well people were transported out of the rubble and into awaiting ambulances, helicopters, and loving embraces.

"Oh my God," one of the firemen gasped through his air mask. "That is the saddest thing I have seen so far."

The second fireman's eyes followed the first one's gaze to the floor.

There was a child's broken, bloody hand protruding from a manmade hole in something that had gotten in the child's way.

"Hello! Can you hear me?" one of the men yelled, hoping, praying that that tiny hand would move. Of course, it did no such thing.

The two men worked hard to knock down the wall without injuring whoever was on the other side. Finally they succeeded, heart breaking when they saw two little boys covered in soot and blood.

* * *

><p>Alec suddenly felt his chest being pumped, a weight going up and down on his stomach. Fresh breath finally filled his lungs. He could breathe. It was hard, though, to open his eyes.<p>

"Don't die on me," the boy heard a foreign voice command in a cracked voice.

But why would he die? That's when the Lightwood boy realized—no, remembered—what had happened. _Mommy_, he thought with dread.

He was better off, staying locked in his own body. That way, nothing could hurt him ever again. And, hey, if he did die, then the pain of his mother's death would not hurt him anymore. And they could be together, just like he always wanted.

…Then again, he did not even know for sure if Maryse had even died, although he found it quite likely that she had. How he made it out of that deathly fire trap filled with smoke, he had no idea. It must have something to do with this strange man trying to manually restart his body, Alec thought.

The little boy's thoughts then shifted. What if he did die? And what if she did too? What would that do to his daddy and sister? Alec loved his father dearly, and he had just come to terms that, no matter how annoying Isabelle was, she was a good sister to him. He did not think how Max would react. Max would not even remember him anyway.

He had to fight whatever was keeping him in the dark, trapped and unmoving.

"Does anybody know who this child is? Where are his parents?"

"What about the other boy that was found with this one? What's his status?"

"Someone must have seen them! They can't be strays!"

Alec tried desperately to open his eyes, to speak, and even move. With a smile, if he could have smiled, he felt his finger twitch. He was coming back to reality. Slowly, but better late than never.

Voices all around him were yelling, screaming, demanding. And he could make out words that were about him, and others that weren't.

This time, when his chest was pressed down, that shout from that faceless man was all for him. "Thank God. He lives! He's fine!"

Alec didn't feel fine, but it could have been worse. When his eyes opened, he saw a man covered in black, but face was relatively clean, staring at him. Alec made no movements besides trying to sit up. Nor did he speak, although he had about ten million questions.

The fireman smiled at Alec, and Alec tried to smile back.

"What's your name, little one?" the man asked, trying to be friendly, and also trying to squeeze the boy in order to get information out of him.

"A-Alec," he stuttered. "Li-Lightwood. And you are?"

He smiled. "George. Where do you live?"

Really, Alec was taught not to give that information. "…I'm not supposed to tell that to strangers." But he believed he could tell this man, this kind man whom saved his life.

George laughed slightly, relieved that Alec could give him such an answer. "I know, and I'm sorry, but I have to ask."

Alec should have seen that one coming. "New York," he said vaguely. But…There was still one thing he needed to know above all else in the world.

The fireman sighed. "Where are your parents, and could you give me their names? We need to locate them for you."

As soon as the man in the dirty uniform said his last sentence, Alec spit out his address as if it was venom on his tongue. "Please. Daddy was home with Max while Izzy was at school. Mommy…She was in there!"

That was when Alec finally looked around. He saw what was left of the building he entered that morning. He saw all the people running around frantically. He noticed it all. "Please help her! Please!" He could not stop screaming.

"Alec." George tried to calm the boy. "Alec, we are going to do everything we can. Now tell me their names. Tell me your parents' names."

"Maryse and Robert," he gulped. "Did…did you find her?"

"I'm sorry, but I just don't know at this time."

Alec expected that. "What about Magnus? He was with me."

George's eyes widened as he yelled to the other set of firemen, assisted by paramedics. "His name is Magnus!" Then he faced Alec. "Who is he to you?"

"Magnus…I just met him today. Mommy brought me to work, and Lira brought Magnus."

"Who is Lira, and do you know their last name?" George tried to ask without sounding too demanding, the name sounding familiar.

"S-she works with Mommy, or did. Lira Bane, Magnus' mom."

"I will be right back, Alec. Please hold on. I just have to inform those men over there what you just said, okay?"

Alec, frightened and scared, did not want to be left in the center of a catastrophe all alone. "O-okay."

After about ten minutes, George arrived with a few sheets of notebook paper. Written on them with every writing device known, a plethora of different handwritings was names and a word on if they lived, died, or were bordering a thin line between the two. George added his own writing to the mix. "How old are you?"

"Nine. What did you find out?"

The fireman searched the list. "Lira Bane was mentioned by a man that just, uh, died…Clark Sullivan. Did you know him?"

Alec wanted to cry. Mister Clark helped save them, him and Magnus. "He…helped Magnus and me over this…thing. I didn't know what it was but we couldn't climb it."

"I see a Maryse Lightwood. Is she your mother?"

"Yes! Tell me where she is. Bring me to her!" the little boy demanded, trying to jump off of the makeshift table he was sitting on.

George sighed as he picked up the light child in his arms and carried him to the destination number on the paper in which the Lightwood woman was located. "I must tell you, Alec, that it won't look pretty over there. She's not in the best condition."

"I don't care."

They reached his mother, but she was being blocked by a crowd of paramedics. "Quinn, I have her son. The Lightwood boy," George called.

A paramedic turned around to face the fireman. "I guess you can bring him over, if he insists."

Then Alec swore he heard his mother's voice, faint, but still recognizable.

"Ma'am, we're doing everything we can. We have your son."

"Alec!"

"Mommy!" the little boy shrieked, trying to claw his way free.

* * *

><p>At the exact moment the loud <em>shake<em> was felt all around the city, Robert was cooing at his little baby son, Maxwell. He was tossing Max in the air, and catching him, kissing all ten of his ten pudgy toes.

Robert did not know what was happening once he felt that shake and heard a dull screeching sound, but he knew that it was not good. The instant it happened he started to worry.

Holding Max close to his chest, he walked outside his front door. People were suddenly screaming, throwing belongings into cars, and taking off. In the eastern direction of his home, thick, black smoke clouded over the sky, looking like ominous clouds.

A woman was running across the street, about to abandon her high heels.

Robert stopped her. "Excuse me!" he called. The auburn haired woman stopped briefly. "What is going on?"

She frowned, a sad frown, one that would be accompanied by tears. "The Twin Towers—"

That woman did not need to finish what she was about to say. She confirmed Robert's sense of dread. His wife and son were in that building. He feared the worst.

"—attacked and starting to collapse."

He had not cried in such a long time, the feeling was foreign to him, but not unrecognizable. Robert wanted to cry. He ran inside, put on his shoes, grabbed his keys, and ran to his car. Which, thankfully, he had today.

Not caring about speed limits, Robert sped down roads until traffic set in. Max started to whimper in the back seat. "Maxxie, don't worry, buddy." Of course, that did not calm the baby.

Eventually Robert made it to his destination, parked, unbuckled Max, and ran inside as fast as he could. It was crowded with people exactly like him...people who wanted desperately to pick up their children from school.

Robert noticed, and gave props to the principal trying to keep order of the school. But Robert did not care for order, just as long as he had his baby girl in his arms again. He ran to the room, 104,and entered as if it were his room at home. "Isabelle."

The little girl with long, dark hair shot up out of her small, blue plastic chair and ran into her father's welcoming arms, arms she was never so happy to share before in her life.

_W.T_

The next stop for the three Lightwoods would not be so easy. They could not go very far without police trying to tell them to turn around or ask why they were headed into the disaster zone.

He demanded to enter numerous times, told them that his wife and son were there, but he was still not permitted in. He sat and waited as far as the men in uniform let him go. If not for his children, he would have found a way to sneak in and find his family, but what use would he be to Isabelle and Max if, God forbid, anything would have happened to him, too?

_W.T_

The waiting was painful. Horrible beyond belief. Robert tried his damnedest to keep it together, for his children. Especially more so every time a police officer, fireman, or even a paramedic walked up to him and asked him who he was waiting for. Every time he said the same exact thing: "My wife, Maryse Lightwood, and my nine year old son, Alec Lightwood."

And every time that person would bow his head, and tell him that he had no news to deliver at that time.

It was getting harder and harder to keep everything together. It did not help him any when Isabelle hugged his arm and asked bluntly, "Did Mommy and Alec die?"

It killed Robert not having the confidence to say, "No, honey, they did not." Instead, he had to tell his seven year old that he honestly did not know. Isabelle cuddled into her father just a little tighter, and he could hear a faint sob and wetness soaking his ribcage. She did not know, but Robert cried silently along with her, watching where what once was the World Trade Center and how a thick layer of hazardous smoke made it towards him.

* * *

><p>Lira did not know much, but she knew that she taught her son to do the best in a dangerous situation, even if that meant leaving someone behind that he knew he could not save. Awake, out of the rubble, and trying to speak, she prayed that Magnus tried to do just what she taught him.<p>

The woman did not know how she made it out of that building, but she could recall many details about the events before now quite clearly.

She and Maryse were talking to executives, occasionally stealing glances at their playing sons. But that ended as soon as an intern she never learned the name of started yelling to look out the window, and it would be best to run. That was when she and Maryse glanced out of the window and saw a plane about to make its landing right in this building. The two women ran out that door as fast as they could, trying to grab hold of Magnus and Alec.

They could not find their way, even though the two were slightly visible. Maryse cried on how Alec was her pride and joy, and that she needed him safe at all costs; her crying became worse when she heard Alec scream in a terrible croaking voice…_Mommy!_

Lira prayed her son was with Maryse's, just as they had been for that short time they knew each other. She hoped Magnus would get them out of there.

When she and Maryse made it to the stairwell, Lira did all she could to pull the other woman down them. "Maryse, I'm sure they're already down those steps. You won't be any good to them if you stay up there and die."

Maryse knew Lira had a point, but she could not let the feeling go.

They ran with a crowd of people from their floor, and a multiple amount of people that started to gather around, trying to get out, from the floors underneath the one they were on. Over the course of time, the crowd thinned, many going opposite ways, and others not being able to continue.

Maryse almost ran right into Mr. Sullivan, which everyone just called Clark because he did not like to be formal. He was trying to climb some sort of object.

"My God. Am I glad to see you girls," Clark yelled over the sirens. "Your boys were here. I helped them over this beam."

Lira deflated the air from her chest from relief while Maryse almost fainted.

The three continued their journey together until something fell, and Clark pushed the women out of the way, which caused him to be trapped under the heavy beam. Lira and Maryse tried to move the object, but it was far too heavy.

"Go," Clark commanded.

After much arguing Clark managed to convince the two to leave him behind.

They ran, got pushed down a flight of steps, and crawled through a dangerous pathway, but that was the only choice they had and they took it.

The details started to get fuzzy, and that was all she could recall.

"Miss, please tell me your name."

Lira locked her gold eyes with those of a gorgeous paramedic. He shone a flashlight through her eyes.

"Get that out of my face," Lira demanded, trying to swat it away.

"Miss, please tell me your name," he repeated.

"Lira Bane. Now you tell me that you have my son, safe and sound."

The paramedic grabbed his radio and signaled to anybody that had the list to check it for the name… "What is your son's name?" …Magnus Bane.

For a full minute, Lira held her breath, waiting for someone to answer.

_"I have a Magnus Bane here, but he doesn't look too good. Bruises, torn hands and knees, unconscious. We're trying to stir him."_

Lira almost died. "Take me to him."

* * *

><p>Maryse had to hold still as paramedics held her down and splinted her ankle and wrapped her broken wrist while cleaning the gash on her forehead the best they could, given the situation. As soon as she heard that one word—<em>Mommy<em>—she almost jumped to her feet to hold her son.

A man whom introduced himself as George brought over Alec. Seeing him for the first time since the mob formed on that floor made her cry more than she ever had before in her life.

The world melted away as she wrapped Alec up like a present, her arms the paper.

She cried, he cried.

"Mommy, I thought you were dead."

Maryse did not tell Alec that she thought that was his fate, as well. "Well I'm not. I thought I was going to lose you forever." She saw the state of his hands, tightly wrapped in white gauze but she did not question it; he went through hell to get back to her. And all of this was her fault. "If anything happened to you, I don't know what I'd do."

Alec squeezed tighter. "I'm fine."

Maryse prayed her son wasn't lying. "Do you hurt?"

"Yeah," he mumbled into her shoulder. "It sorta hurts to breathe, my head, knees sting, and my hands hurt bad."

"Oh, I love you so much, Alec."

* * *

><p>Dante Bane did not hear wind of this news until nearly an hour after the towers went down. He was on his way to a business trip, talking on the phone with Felix Kai, an overseas executive that his project could not afford to lose. He did not realize that his driver had tried to get his attention for the past forty minutes to share the news.<p>

As soon as Dante clicked _end_ to his conversation with Mr. Kai, the driver stated in his thick accent, "Mister Bane, I think it would be wise to turn around, to go back to New York City."

"Ah, and why is that Roman?" Dante laughed.

"The World Trade Center has been attacked. A plane crashed into the twin towers," Roman informed.

Dante suddenly felt as if there was possibly not enough oxygen to sustain him. "Turn around," he barely choked out.

_W.T_

It was not as hard, trying to get back into New York City, than to leave it.

Dante ordered Roman to drive him as fast as he could to the very closest location they could possibly go.

He knew that he was not the perfect father and the perfect husband, but he loved his family, and damn it, they could be dead, Dante yelled at the police official who did not allow him any closer.

"I'm sorry, sir. But we simply cannot risk more people getting injured or more people getting in the way and compromising the situation further. You can go wait by that car over there, but that is the best I can offer right now."

Was it wrong that Dante found a miniscule amount of comfort in the fact that there were many cars pulled up, right where he was? It meant that Dante was not alone in his sufferings.

Roman pulled the car right up next to a top of the line 2001 Aston Martin Vanquish, the hottest car out there to date. If Roman remembered correctly, Dante was in the making to purchase one…

Sitting on top of the silver Aston Martin, Dante noticed, was a man, about his age, a complete wreck. He couldn't blame the man. But what really got to Dante was that that man was trying to console a little bundle of something small while holding an incredibly small package. Getting closer, Dante realized that the man had a daughter silently sobbing on his lap and an extremely young child sleeping in his arm.

Dante realized something that night. He was a terrible father. He stole glances of the man sitting on the Vanquish, holding his children to his chest as if that was his own brand of life support. He could not remember the last time he held Magnus that close. But, he swore if Magnus made it through, Dante would treat Magnus like a prince. And get that dog he always wanted, or was it a cat. Maybe both.

"Daddy?" the little girl asked. "If Mommy and Alec don't make it, at least they have each other, right?"

Dante could not believe what the nameless girl had said to her father. As an outsider looking in, he wanted to tear up from her logic.

"Yes, sweetheart. They would have each other."

"At least they wouldn't be alone."

* * *

><p>When the victims' families were approached this time, the man looked as if there was new news in his head. And Robert could not be happier.<p>

One by one, person after person was asked whom they were waiting for. The newest arrival next to him was asked, and the tall, dark haired, tan man said with a choked voice, "My wife, Lira Bane, and my son, Magnus Bane."

Robert felt horrible for him, really he did. He also had a wife and a son up there.

The police officer had a list this time and he scanned it. "Sir, how old is your son?"

"Ten."

So close to Alec's age, Robert had noted.

"Mr. Bane, we have your wife and son in custody."

The smile and relief flooded Mr. Bane's face, and Robert was jealous, just a little. He had to wait here for hours, being rejected every time, but this Bane character in a sharp suit didn't have to agonize over this for _nearly_ as long as he had.

"They are being treated separately, since they were rescued separately and they have different injuries. On our way, inform me on which you would like to see first."

Robert could never choose.

It was his turn. Robert was asked, and the same thing was said, just like every time before it. "My wife, Maryse Lightwood, and my nine year old son, Alec Lightwood."

He looked down at Isabelle curled up in his lap, a small hand resting on her brother's leg. But as soon as the police officer asked Robert the same question he was asked multiple times, Isabelle's dark eyes widened, brightened with the hope Robert began to lose.

Once again, Robert watched this man scan this long list, but this time it was for his loved ones, has family. That made all the difference.

"Mr. Lightwood—"

_Oh, God. Here comes the disappointment,_ Robert thought bitterly.

"—we have your family in custody."

Isabelle cheered and squeezed her father's stomach, which was the only thing he could feel. That moment, he was experiencing too many emotions to pinpoint exactly which ones.

"Mr. Lightwood, did you hear me?"

"I-I'm sorry. Yes. Can I see them?"

"Of course. They were recently united."

Robert swallowed. So he didn't have to choose like that Bane guy did. Good news for him.

* * *

><p>Dante followed the police officer, along with the Lightwood man and his two kids. The only reason the youngsters were allowed through was because nobody would be able to watch them.<p>

Apparently, Magnus was first in the line, and Dante about jumped out of his skin when he saw Lira running into his arms right before he reached his son. She was well enough to see her family so she took off, especially when she saw Dante in the midst of disaster.

"Dante!"

"Lira! My baby, thank God you're okay. I was worried out of my mind."

The two smiled even greater as Lira snuggled under the protection of her husband's arm and they saw Magnus.

The boy was sitting on a table being told to look every which way by a paramedic brightened, hopped off, and ran into the embrace of his mother and father, grinning like a maniac.

Soon after, the Bane family was released to go home.

They walked, linked together, to Roman and the car.

"Mrs. Bane and Master Bane, how wonderful it is to see you," Roman grinned.

"It's wonderful to be seen. Thank you, Roman."

* * *

><p>Robert thought it tragic, the scene he was being forced to walk through. How anybody could have lived through this was beyond him. He was just glad that his family made it, and sent a silent prayer of thanks for all of the men and women willing to risk everything to save strangers.<p>

"Maryse and Alexander Lightwood are right up there," the uniformed official pointed.

That was when Robert first saw his wife and son.

Maryse was lying down, something around her ankle and wrist, but it was her, his wife. Covered in soot, she had never looked so beautiful. Alec was right by her, sitting next to her, holding her hand, swinging it lightly, but careful not to injure his, which looked to be wrapped.

Robert watched for a moment, but he was finally able to, so he ran to his wife and son, ran with his children in his arms, ran because he couldn't contain his joy any longer.

"Robert!" Maryse yelled, sitting up.

"Daddy," he heard Alec shriek with happiness.

That was his new favorite sound.

Isabelle jumped out of Robert's arms as Alec plopped off the table. The siblings met halfway and hugged each other tightly. Maryse opened her arms as Robert, with Max, entered them.

Amidst all the tragedy and all the death, the Lightwoods were able to find a bright star.

Family.

* * *

><p><strong>*For starters, this story is not and was never intended to hurt feelings and cause some sort of horrid feelings. I realize that this is NOT the way things were operated that fateful day. I realize that I have wrong details. And I did notice I may have left things vague, but that was to make sure I did not get a terrible amount of details wrong. George was a real firefighter and Quinn (last name) was a real paramedic; that part was right. What I have written just seemed to work in my story. <strong>

***Just to let everyone know, I do not know what was going on. I was NOT in any of the buildings, nor in New York City. I was in New York, yes…at least an hour and a half away. But to my credit, I was in first grade. Please do not hate the story because many of the details may/probably are I bet something very important to me on that. Well, you can hate the story; it's your opinion, really.**

***Oh, and I did not have the Lightwoods or the Banes die because there was already too much death on that fateful day. I did not want that to consume my story.**

**-Goodbye for now, and thank you for reading my first posted story.**

**-WithinTheTrenches**


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